


You Shaved

by Toni_Lynne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, F/M, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:37:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13304799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toni_Lynne/pseuds/Toni_Lynne





	You Shaved

“I can’t believe we are doing this,” you muttered, following Sam down the hallway. “You know they tried to recruit me and I turned them down.”

Sam was shining his flashlight from room to room in the basement of the deserted hospital. “I know. But between our skill and their weapons we have a real chance of making a difference.”

“Don’t you mean their toys?” you replied with sarcasm as you checked the rooms down the other side of the hall.

A bouncing beam of light caught your attention and you tapped your friend on the back. Sam was reaching for his knife and you had your angel blade in hand when Mick Davies came into view.

“Nothing on the first floor.”

You relaxed, tucking the blade away. “Where are Ketch, Dean, and Mary?”

“Ketch is on the second floor. The Winchesters are on the third floor,” Mick replied. “Anything down here?”

“Not yet,” Sam said, resuming his search of the rooms. “It would help if we knew what we were hunting.”

“That’s why we research first,” Mick said, a dig at the Winchester’s hunting style. The British Men of Letters were tagging along to see how the American’s did things.

“I’ll go check the other wing,” you said. “We can get this done faster.”

Sam nodded and you started towards the left wing of the basement. Not only would splitting up save time, but you needed to get away from Mick’s eyes and that accent.

That damn accent never failed to send shivers down your spine.

You silently thanked Chuck that his beard was so awkward, it was the only reason you were able to resist the Brit, and you needed to resist him. Relationships led to heartache and you would never go through that again.

You stopped a few feet down the hallway. It smelled different and you were immediately on alert.

The sound of footsteps behind you echoed. “Sam?”

“No, he’s finishing the other corridor. He asked me to come with you,” you heard Mick say as he came up beside you. “What’s that smell?”

“I don’t know. It feels different over here,” you muttered, pulling your angel blade and stepping forward.

A hand on your arm stopped you and you looked back at Mick. He had his blade out and stepped in front of you, leading the way down the hallway.

You made quick work of checking the first few rooms but the further down the hallway you got the worse the smell was. You put your hand up to cover your noise. “Mick what is that?”

“I don’t know. We should go back and get the Winchesters and Ketch.”

You nodded your agreement and let him place his hand on your back to guide you out. You had only taken a few steps when the flashlight went out and you were plunged into complete darkness. “Mick?”

His hand slid from your back to take your hand so you wouldn’t get separated. Blades out, he kept guiding you forward.

The sound of something growling behind you caused the hair on the back of your neck to raise. “Well this isn’t good.”

“Down!” you heard a strong British accent yell from further ahead in the hallway and Mick grabbed you, pushing you to the floor and landing over you.

A burst of fire went over your heads and in the light of the flames you saw Ketch, standing at the other end of the hall, drop a flame thrower and hold up an odd gun.

“Rugaru killing gun,” Mick whispered in your ear, still pinning you to the floor.

The two Rugarus on fire fell and the third was holding his ears until he finally went down.

Mick stood, helping you up as Ketch walked down the corridor towards you.

“Well that was exciting,” you muttered, dusting off your jeans.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Ketch said with a smile as he walked by.

You shook your head, wondering, not for the first time, what was wrong with that man. Mick took your elbow as the two of you followed him out of the basement and back to the first floor.

When you saw Sam give you a strange look you quickly shook Mick off and went to join the Winchesters.

“Your turn. So what’s next,” Dean asked Mick.

“We have a line on werewolves but we are still gathering information. Maybe a day? Instead of a motel you are more than welcome to stay at the compound with us.”

Dean rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to no doubt say no, but Sam responded first. “Sure, thanks.”

As you slid into the Impala beside Mary, Dean turned to his brother. “Stay with them?”

“It’s one night, and if we get the intelligence we need then we can head out right away.” A silence fell over the car as Dean followed their black van to the compound.

* * *

 

A few hours later you were sitting in the small kitchen with the Winchesters. After a dinner of pizza you were sharing a bottle of good whiskey and discussing the werewolf case, although at the moment you were laughing over a story Mary was telling about Bobby Singer taking on his first werewolf.

When Mick walked into the kitchen the room fell silent. You felt bad for the awkward silence “Hi Mick.”

“Y/N. I was looking for you. Could I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, and you could see he was fidgety.

“Sure,” you said, standing up and following him out in the hallway. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering… hoping actually… would you like to get dinner with me? After the werewolf?” he asked.

You stared at him, shocked. Mick Davies just asked you out? A torrid of emotions hit you. There was no denying he was a handsome man. Sure the beard needed to go, but he had the most incredible eyes you had ever seen.

But you didn’t date. Dating meant letting someone in. Trusting someone to be real. To not hurt you. “I’m sorry Mick. I appreciate the offer but I don’t think so,” you finally replied, turning to walk back into the kitchen.

“He asked you out!” Mary hissed as soon as you sat down.

You grabbed the bottle of whiskey from Dean and took a long drink. “Were you guys listening in?”

“No. Yes,” Dean admitted.

“Y/N, it’s clear you like him, we’ve known for a while now. Why say no?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t tell them the truth. You didn’t want to explain that you were afraid to let someone in. “It’s the beard. He either needs to shave it off or grow it in. I don’t like it,” you said, a half lie. “I think I’m heading to bed.”

Mick moved quickly from his spot in the hallway, entering the conference room just before you walked by on your way to your borrowed bedroom.

He reached up to rub his beard. His beard? That was what was holding you back?

“What are you doing?” Ketch asked, walking in.

“Thinking about shaving,” Mick replied, dropping his hands.

Ketch shook his head as he walked by. “For some woman.”

“That’s not why. And she’s not just some woman,” Mick muttered, heading towards his bedroom.

* * *

 

Mary woke you up with a shake.

“What?” you asked, glancing at the clock to see it was just before five am.

“We are heading out for the werewolf. We leave in ten.”

You nodded before climbing out of bed. Your overnight bag was still packed and you had showered before bed so after washing your face and brushing your teeth you dressed and were down in the garage with a few minutes to spare.

“Ok, so here’s what we have so far…” Mick said, walking in and handing everyone a sheet of paper.

Your jaw fell open when you saw his smooth face, the beard gone. He raised an eyebrow as he met your gaze and you quickly looked down at the report in your hands.

Mick had shaved? He must have heard you last night. He liked you enough to shave his beard off?

With a shake of your head you focused on the briefing for what you were walking into. Hotel rooms had been booked, the Bentley and Impala were loaded with the necessary weapons, and you set off.

Sam turned to look at you in the backseat. “So are we going to talk about it?”

“No.”

He nodded and not another word was said as you followed the British Men of Letters to Minnesota.

* * *

 

You had just finished drying your hair when you heard someone knock on your hotel room door.

“Mick,” you said when you opened the door. “Are we heading out?”

“Leaving in the morning. I wanted to check on you,” he said softly, standing in the doorway.

“I’m okay. He only clawed my arm. Sam stitched me up already,” you said, pulling your sleeve up to show him the freshly stitched wound.

“I’m sorry you got hurt. We thought we knew where he was.”

“This was still the smoothest werewolf hunt I’ve been on. Compared to our usual methods this was amazing,” you said with a laugh, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Would you like to go down to the bar and have a drink?” Mick asked, nodding towards the other end of the hotel where there was a bar.

“I don’t feel like going out,” you said, noticing the disappointment in his eyes right away. Taking a deep breath you decided to take a chance. “But we can raid the mini-bar. You guys are footing the bill anyways.”

Mick laughed and you could see the relief in his face. “Let’s see what we have.”

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the mini-bar to get either of you drunk but you were both feeling slightly buzzed and when Mick’s hand came out to rest on your leg, you didn’t shake him off. “You shaved.”

“I heard you tell the Winchesters my beard bothered you,” he admitted.

You closed your eyes for a moment before meeting his gaze. “It’s not your beard Mick. I mean don’t get me wrong, I like this look better, but that wasn’t why I said no. I… I don’t trust easy. I don’t do one night stands. I don’t have friends with benefits. It’s not who I am.”

“You don’t trust me,” he said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your bottom lip.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” you replied, leaning into his palm.

When he closed the distance and kissed you, you didn’t pull away.

His lips were soft, his kiss gentle. You found yourself returning it, your hands resting on his thighs as he leaned into you, his tongue trailing along the seam of your mouth until you let him in.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered against your mouth, and you let him push you back until you were laying on the bed with him, his lips still on yours as his hands trailed down your body.

You gasped when you felt Mick’s fingers slide under your shirt, tracing patterns on your stomach. You reached up to grab at his hair as his kiss deepened.

“Please,” you whispered, arching against him.

“Are you sure Y/N?” he asked, pulling back to look in your eyes.

You nodded, biting your lip. “I trust you.”

You took turns undressing each other, leaving slow kisses and lingering touches as you went.

When he slid off the bed to kneel between your legs and learn your flavor you cried out, digging your fingers into the sheets. Returning the favor a few moments later, you heard just how good that accent sounded when he was begging you to suck his cock harder.

And when he finally slid into you, you both felt just how right it was. Your hands trailed down his back as he brought his lips back to yours, his kisses slow. Quickly learning what speed and rhythm worked best, he brought you to your peak before following you, filling you when he came.

Resting against his sweaty chest a few moments later you smiled. “I think we need a shower.”

“I like the way you think,” he said, picking you up and carrying you into the bathroom.

 


End file.
